


Don't Even Think About It

by Snoopadoop



Category: Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Aftermath, Gen, Grieving, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Post-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Tony's inner child is happy, android literature choices, but he isn't
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-14
Updated: 2018-10-14
Packaged: 2019-08-02 06:32:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16299929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snoopadoop/pseuds/Snoopadoop
Summary: Tony's busy working on a new armor. He doesn't really mind Vision lurking about the workshop but something's missing. Or not missing. Or maybe he just doesn't want to think.





	Don't Even Think About It

'Hey, Vision?'

'Yes, Mr Stark?' replies the android, and boy, he must be more tired or injured or sick or whatever because one sentence should not make his eyes tear up.

He waves the arm not wrist deep in suit wires at Vision. 'No, nothing. Forget I said anything. Hey!' he shouts, hoping it's more distracting than alarming. 'You should tell me about your day. What does a baby android do for fun? Enquiring minds want to know.' He doesn't look at Vision, focusing on the little fiddly wire that's come lose, trying to shock him. He can feel the android's eyes on him like a navy search light. The android humms. 

'I spend a lot of time reading,' Vision says, and Tony's eyes heat up again. Traitorous eyes. Who needs tear ducts?

'Uh huh,' he replies, finally slipping the wire back into place. There's a bolt coming loose behind it too, so he picks up the spanner sitting next to his thigh and sticks it in his mouth while he frees his other hand. He can still hear Vision humming in the background, or maybe it's the cooling fans?

'Would you like to hear about my latest read?'

'Yeah, go ahead. I can multi-task. What're you reading?' He's expecting something philosophical or sci-fi. He's ready to stick his hand back in the suit when Vision clears his throat. 

'Fifty Shades of Grey'

Tony spits out the spanner, the heaving belly laugh that escapes sending it halfway across the 'shop. He tears up for real this time, and can't catch his breath. His stomach is cramping but it's the first real laugh he's had since Sokovia and he can't stop. Vision's face doesn't help when he glances at him. He's pouting. Honest to god pouting. 

'This has caused amusement, Mr Stark?' Vision says, head tilting like a puppy. 

There's a stab of something in his gut that isn't humour, a little black something that tries to steal away the laughter, but it disappears when Tony remembers Fifty Shades of Grey. 

'I just...' he wheezes, holding his stomach and wiping away mirthful tears. He catches a breath, 'Sorry Vis, I just didn't take you for a Fifty Shades fan.'

Vision's still pouting. Jesus, he can't look. 

'I quite enjoy the genre,' Vision says, chin sticking out in defiance. Tony smiles at him, genuinely trying to stop laughing so they can talk. About Fifty goddamn Shades.

'You like erotica? Stumbled across the Harlequin stuff yet? Or...' and Tony has to tamp down the mischievous laugh in his throat, 'or Chuck Tingle?' 

Nope. He can't stop it. Tony throws his head back and laughs, can't even think about stopping until his chest starts hurting and he has to rub his sternum to ease the tightness. He hasn't felt like this in months. Tony wiped his eyes again, realising too late there's oil staining his fingers. Whatever. He's been online. People like raccoons. 

He has to fight down more laughter with every ounce of will. 

'Sorry Vision,' he gasps eventually. 'I'll try and stop...I just...Fifty Shades?' he rubs his chest again, but the strain on his smiling cheeks makes everything better. He can only shake his head in disbelief. 'I'll get you some Asimov or something. Broaden your horizons.'

'I have read both Asimov and Philip K. Dick, ' Vision says with a lopsided frown. 'It was a...peculiar experience.'

Tony ignores the burn of oil as he wipes his eyes one last time and gives up fiddling with the suit. Vision's stalked up beside him during his laughing fit, leaning against the worktable with a politely blank look on his face and suddenly Tony realises. Tony can't believe his luck. He's talking to an android about robots in literature. His inner-child is screaming. 

'What's so peculiar?' he asks Vision, and gets that searchlight stare again. A second passes, until Vision's shoulders melt down from his ears and his mouth turns up into a more human-looking smile. It's almost wistful.

'The robots in those stories,' he begins, raising a hand and twirling it like he's trying to snatch the right word out of the air, 'they were always slaves of one sort or another. It didn't fit my view of the world.' Vision laughs, extraordinarily human, and smirks, 'except for the Tony bot.' 

Tony waggles his eyebrows back, 'Art imitating life there, Vis.' That gets a snort, and Tony gives himself a mental point. A companionable silence settles over them for a moment, but Tony can't stand the quiet so he asks, 'But what about the other stories? What are your views of the world?'

'...Robots, androids, me,' Vision starts, meandering around the workshop and touching tools and benches with his fingertips, like an exploring toddler. He comes to a stop before the charging station where Dum-E and U are sat, silent. 'We are more than slaves to mankind.'

Okay, moment over. 

Tony feels all the lightness and laughter pour out of him and his eyebrows crease down. He tries to open his mouth, make his vocal chords do something when Vision reaches out a hand to Dum-E and strokes the 'bot's claw. A slow, sleepy beep and a small flutter of the fingers is his reply. Vision smiles at the 'bot and turns back to Tony. 'I see us as companions. Friends,' he says, and Tony has to fight back the warmth in his eyes, and the lingering pain in his chest that has nothing to do with his laughing fit earlier. Vision pets U and comes to stand next to him with his hand stretched out. Tony stares steadfastly at his feet, ignoring Vision's hand in his peripheral vision. 'I have learned from you that we can be more than that.'

'Stop.' Tony hisses. Vision doesn't through. His hand comes to rest gently on his shoulder, and Tony can't escape the memory of someone else with Vision's voice as he whispers, 'You have taught me that we can be family.'

'Fuck you!' Tony snaps, surging to his feet. He can't look at Vision, and ignores the sleeping 'bots and the unfinished armour. All he can think to do is stumble on static legs to the little kitchenette Pepper made sure to install, and fumble about in the cupboard under the sink where the bleach and cleaning fluids are kept. At the back is his very last bottle of scotch, saved from the purge Rhodey and Pepper helped him with before the Ultron event. 

'This is on you, Vision,' he snarls, pointing the bottle at him. 'Three months sober, and you've just ruined it.' He twists the cap and brings the top to his lips and the amber liquid is almost...

'SIR.'

The bottle smashes at his feet, and Tony's heart must have jumped up his throat from the pounding in his tongue. He dropped it. He dropped the goddamn bottle, but that voice and that 'Sir' and and and...

Vision is suddenly there beside him, not touching him but very tangibly there. He doesn't give off heat like a normal person, but his presence is somehow warm. Gently, like Tony's a wild animal that he doesn't want to spook, Vision touches the back of his hand. 'Mr Stark,' he whispers in the hush of the cooling fans, 'I'm so very sorry. Please don't do that.'

There's not much Tony can do. His chest is heaving, heart hammering away and his eyes are burning. Shards of glass sparkle in the florescent light along with very expensive scotch. Tony can't feel his body anymore, and his hands shake. He doesn't want to deal with any of this. 

Vision's hand rubs up and down his arm slowly, and Tony wonders vaguely in the static of his mind where he learned to do that. 'Come with me, Mr Stark,' Vision whispers, trying to lead him away, 'You've been up for a very long time.' 

Tony doesn't want to go though. He's fine in the workshop. Everything's fine. 'It's fine,' he goes to grab the dishcloth hanging from the tap, but all that happens is the dishcloth ends up in the sink, 'I should clean this up. Sorry I said fuck,' but Vision's hand stays firmly on his arm, and his eyebrows come down to his eyelids. 

'You should go to sleep,' he says, 'it's been nearly four days.' 

'Yeah sure,' Tony mutters, not moving but feeling like the floor is, 'It's Tuesday, right?' 

'No, Mr Stark.' 

Tony frowns at the android, 'it's Tuesday...' and then it hits him. 

It had been a Tuesday. After everything happened, after Wanda and her brother's body had disappeared off to S.H.E.I.L.D and everyone had started muttering about clean-up and the body count and what to do next, there'd finally been time to slow down and process things and...

It was Tuesday when he realised. 

When he realised he'd killed J.A.R.V.I.S.

**Author's Note:**

> I really loved Asimov's robot stories, and I started thinking about what Vision would think about those stories, and there really is a love-bot called Tony in one of them so I had to use that!   
> Also, Tony never got to really grieve for JARVIS, so I thought to add something. Admittedly, it's been a very long time since I've watched AOU, so any timeline inaccuracies are on me.


End file.
